


In For The Kill

by cerasi



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming In Pants, Free! OVA, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Makoto tying Haru to a fence, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Water Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerasi/pseuds/cerasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Makoto’s smile grows more dangerous. “Good,” he murmurs. He walks forward in careful steps, his gaze perfectly still. “You should be afraid. After all…” The tip of his water gun touches Haru’s chest. “I have you exactly where I want you.”</i>
</p><p>MakoHaru Fest prize fic for <a href="http://rottingpizza.tumblr.com/">rottingpizza</a> based on <a href="http://rottingpizza.tumblr.com/post/113598575893/is-everyone-getting-pumped-for-the-bonus">this amazing picture</a>. The prompt: Continue Makoto and Haru's OVA scene if Nagisa hadn't interrupted... with role-play, a yandere Makoto, and and Haru being really into it.</p><p>Check out the winning entries at <a href="http://theofficialmakoharufestival.tumblr.com">theofficialmakoharufestival.tumblr.com</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In For The Kill

**Author's Note:**

> For [rottingpizza](http://rottingpizza.tumblr.com/), based on the picture they drew of [Makoto tying Haru to the fence during their water gun fight](http://rottingpizza.tumblr.com/post/113598575893/is-everyone-getting-pumped-for-the-bonus). :3
> 
> Title is from the song with the same name by LaRoux.

Haru’s hand is sweaty around the cheap blue plastic of his water gun. He’s been standing at this impasse for what feels like ages: face to face with Makoto, their guns trained on each other’s chests. He’s not sure how it’s ever going to end.

Makoto’s arm wavers by a centimeter, and it looks like an opening; _now_ , Haru thinks, but before he can pull the trigger, Makoto’s arm flexes back into position. Haru freezes. _Damn it._

Makoto smiles sweetly. “I told you, Haru.” He takes a step closer. “I always know what’s on your mind.”

Haru knows he should just go ahead pull the trigger; the situation isn’t going to improve. They’ll probably go down together. And yet…

Makoto takes another step forward. The gentle curve of his mouth doesn’t change, but there’s something different about his eyes. Something dangerous. A chill goes up Haru’s spine when he recognizes what it is.

 _Here?_ is his first thought. Because he knows this side of Makoto; he’s the _only_ one who knows it, and he’d like to keep it that way. The Makoto under that sugar-sweet shell, the one who presses him into his bed and ties his hands behind his back and whispers dark promises into his ear--that Makoto belongs to him alone.

Makoto glances left and right, seeming to read his thoughts. “It’s just you and me out here, you know,” he murmurs. It sounds like a threat, but Haru knows it’s a question. An offer.

He swallows.

His arm isn’t tired yet, but it’s starting to tremble; he and Makoto both watch as the tip of his water gun enscribes tiny circles in the air.

“Haru,” Makoto says, his voice silky soft. He edges forward. “Are you afraid?”

Haru exhales harshly. It’s not just his arm that’s shaking now; his whole body feels like it’s pulled taut. _We can’t, we’re in public_ , some part of his brain protests. _The others will find us._

Makoto smiles and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Haru feels his resistance collapse. “Yes,” he whispers. The fear in his voice sounds real even to his own ears.

Makoto’s smile grows more dangerous. “Good,” he murmurs. He walks forward in careful steps, his gaze perfectly still. “You should be afraid. After all…” The tip of his water gun touches Haru’s chest. “I have you exactly where I want you.”

Haru shudders involuntarily. His own arm is still outstretched toward Makoto, but his reach is shorter, and his gun is smaller; it hovers a few centimeters from its target. He doesn’t even try to resist when Makoto pulls it from his hand and tosses it aside.   

He’s distantly aware that the prickle of moisture where the tip of Makoto’s gun is seeping through his shirt means he’s already lost, he’s out of the game. But from the way Makoto’s eyes gleam as he slides the gun down Haru’s chest, Haru knows this is far from over.

“What are you going to do?” he asks hoarsely.

Makoto tilts his head, seeming to consider. This might be the part Haru likes best: waiting, still and breathless, for Makoto to decide how to flex his power. His knees tremble at the thought.

Makoto reaches out to press him steady against the chain link fence. “I’m going to show you,” he says, “what happens when you don’t play on my team.”

The part of Haru’s mind that’s aware of where he is, of the fact that it’s broad daylight, of anything other than _Makoto_ fizzles away. His jaw goes slack. “Yes,” he whispers. “Show me.”

He’s only vaguely conscious of Makoto leaning his water gun against the fence, undoing the knot of Haru’s tie, pulling it free of his collar in a slick motion. There’s the familiar tug of smooth fabric tightening around his wrists, and then Makoto lifts his arms into the air. By the time he figures out what’s happening, Makoto is already stepping back, admiring his handiwork.

“There,” he says, as he reaches down for his water gun. “Now I _really_ have you where I want you.”

Haru’s hands are suspended over his head, the tie knotted to the chain link fence behind him. He gasps for breath. _Makoto_ , he tries to say, but it comes out as a pitiful, strangled noise.

Makoto smiles. “What’s that?” he asks. He moves in close and presses a finger to the wet trail on Haru’s shirt, traces it down to his belt. “Do you think you deserve to be let go?”

Haru actually has a safeword--Makoto blushed tremendously and hid his face in a pillow for a solid minute the day he finally suggested it--but he doesn’t think he really needs one, not when this is always _part_ of it. He goes still. “No,” he whispers.

“That’s right.” Makoto lifts the water gun to his face, drags it along his cheek. “You were playing dirty, trying to fool me like that,” he murmurs, and it takes Haru a second to realize he’s even talking about the game. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

Haru shakes his head, struggles to steady his breathing. “No.”

“No,” Makoto echoes softly. He leans in even closer; the heat rolling off his body makes Haru feel like his brain is going haywire. “I think you knew this would be the punishment,” he says. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Haru can’t even remember how to respond; he’s too light-headed to think. He’s pretty sure all his blood has been diverted to his groin.

“Answer me, Haru.” The sudden sharpness of Makoto’s voice cuts through his mental fog.

“Yes,” he gasps, “yes.”

“That’s what I thought.” Haru hears the smile in Makoto’s voice, feels feels smooth plastic under his chin as Makoto uses the tip of the water gun to lift his head. “Don’t worry,” Makoto murmurs. “You’ll get what you deserve.”

Haru stares, limp and open-mouthed, as Makoto pumps the water gun in his hands. He doesn’t think about what that means until a jet of water hits his cheek. He flinches, his head jerking back against the fence.

“Do you like that?”

The coolness of the water felt good when it first touched his skin, but now it’s trickling down his jaw, dripping onto his collarbone. It itches; he wants to wipe it away.

“Makoto,” he whispers. His hands tug unconsciously against their restraints.

Makoto’s eyes flick up, pleased. “I’m surprised you even stayed in the game this long,” he continues softly. “I know how much you love getting wet.” He pulls the trigger again, and this time the stream is stronger; it hits Haru under his nose and splashes into his mouth. His involuntary cry comes out as a gurgle, and he’s afraid that it’ll seem like too much, that Makoto will stop.

But Makoto doesn’t stop. He waits for a second, probably to make sure Haru isn’t really going to protest, and then he steps back to trail his eyes down Haru’s trembling body. Haru knows without having to check that Makoto is just as aroused as he is, but in this position, it’s easy to feel a twinge of shame at how needy and helpless he must look. He turns his face against his shoulder. “Makoto…”

He hears Makoto pump the water gun again, and his shoulders tighten in preparation. This time it hits him in the center of his chest, and there’s something about it that takes his breath away, like it’s Makoto’s hands touching him through the water. His lips form Makoto’s name again, but his voice is stuck in his throat.

“You look good like this,” Makoto murmurs. Then veers the spray down, soaking Haru’s crotch, his thighs. A gust of wind turns the damp fabric cold in an instant, and while that should probably kill Haru’s erection, it doesn’t. He feels raw and exposed, _desperate_.

Then the stream of water trickles to a stop, and Makoto tosses the gun aside. “I’m all out,” he says. He steps forward until they’re a breath apart. “But I don’t know if you’ve learned your lesson yet.”

“Please,” Haru gasps.

Even when they’re like this, Makoto always finds a way to give him what he wants. His hand reaches down, his knuckles tracing the line of Haru’s cock through his soaked pants. “Making you come like this would be fair, don’t you think?” he asks softly. “Your clothes are so wet, no one would know.” He brushes his lips against Haru’s ear as he picks up a rhythmic pace. “But I would know. I would know how uncomfortable you’d be, walking around like that all day. Would you like that, Haru?”

Haru whimpers in response, bucks his hips into Makoto’s hand.

Makoto huffs in amusement and pulls back, returning to a light, teasing touch. “Or maybe your punishment will be that you won’t even get that,” he says. “It’s not up to me, you know. What do you think would happen if someone found us out here?”

A small noise escapes Haru’s throat. His fear of that possibility isn’t feigned at all, even though he’s sure Makoto would actually be the more mortified of the two of them.

“Do you think you’d be able to finish then?” Makoto’s hand presses more firmly again, and Haru feels his toes curl in his shoes. “If Nagisa saw you like this? Or Rin?”

His thumb finds the tender spot under the head of Haru’s cock, and Haru moans, let his head fall onto Makoto’s shoulder. “Makoto,” he begs, urgently.

“I don’t want that,” Makoto continues. “I don’t want anyone else to know the things you’ll do for me. I don’t want them to know how much you like it.” He drags the pad of his thumb up and down, and Haru feels his stomach go tight. “You’re _mine_ ,” Makoto whispers, and Haru comes before he knows he’s coming, muffling a cry in Makoto’s jacket as his body snaps and shudders. Makoto’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his head as he whimpers through the last of it.

When all the tension has released from Haru’s limbs, Makoto pushes him back against the fence and unties his hands in a few deft movements. Haru is too far gone to think, but his body knows what to expect: Makoto binding his hands behind his back, pushing him down to his knees, tugging open his mouth. He salivates in anticipation.

But instead what he gets is this: Makoto’s hand pressing into the small of his back, steadying him as he collapses forward; Makoto kissing him close to his ear and murmuring, “Later.”

He doesn’t understand until he hears footsteps approaching.

“Makoto-san!”

Haru lifts his head as Makoto steps to the side. It’s Nitori running toward them, closely followed by Momo. They’re not holding water guns; they must already be out of the game.

“What happened?!” Nitori cries.

Haru glances over and is relieved to see that Makoto is smiling sheepishly, looking every bit as harmless as he usually does. A glimpse of Haru’s tie peeks out from the corner of his pants pocket.

“Ah, Haru and I had a bit of a stand-off,” Makoto says. “I guess we’re both out now.” Haru notices only then that Makoto’s shirt is wet where Haru fell against him.

“Darn it!” cries Momo. “Nanase-san, I thought you would be our secret weapon for sure!”

Haru shrugs, then lets his attention drift as the two of them lead the way back toward the center of campus.

He’s still in a daze a few minutes later, when Makoto moves in close to him as they walk. “Are you comfortable, Haru?” His tone is perfectly normal, concerned.

But Haru knows better than that. “No,” he answers softly.

Makoto smiles. “Good,” he murmurs, and then Haru sees it: the satisfaction glistening in his eyes, the promise of more to come.

He shivers and hides a smile. He wouldn’t want his Makoto to be anything other than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about makoharu at cerasi-nalamine.tumblr.com or @cerasi_n! 
> 
> More MakoHaru Fest entries and prizes can be found [right here](http://theofficialmakoharufestival.tumblr.com).
> 
> I also wrote a bonus mini-fic about Haru's safeword that's a prequel to this one, available [on my tumblr](http://cerasi-nalamine.tumblr.com/post/115592404032/in-for-the-kill-bonus-prequel-scene-um-so-two), and a longer prequel piece here on ao3: [When We Start Making Fires](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4010443).


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